


Cotton Candy

by Shippershape



Category: Stitchers (TV)
Genre: Cotton Candy, F/M, Kirsten has emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 07:06:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4696802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shippershape/pseuds/Shippershape
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kirsten tries cotton candy for the first time, and isn't a fan. The second time is a whole other story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cotton Candy

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me.” Cameron hisses, his voice an angry whisper. “It’s like I don’t even know who you are anymore.”

Kirsten rolls her eyes, handing a couple dollar bills over to the vendor in front of her.

“I’m sorry, I just don’t like cotton candy. I never really got a chance to try it as a kid, and as an adult it has way too much sugar.” She passes him the bag of pink and blue fluff, watching his eyes light up. She feels a flutter of affection as he grins at her, taking the bag and stuffing a piece into his mouth.

“But it’s so good.” He closes his eyes, emphasizing his words. She finds her own face lifting into a smile as he eats. He looks so young.

“You can’t have been allowed to eat that stuff as a kid.” She points out, wondering exactly how much little Cameron missed out on. His eyes open, and for a second, she can see an unhappy childhood in them. Then it’s gone, and he’s smiling again.

“I wasn’t. But _as an adult_ it’s delicious.” He says, mocking her. He holds the bag out, and she pinches off a piece of the confection, popping it into her mouth. It melts on her tongue, pure sugar. It isn’t horrible, but she doesn’t particularly like it either.

“It tastes like sweet nothing.” She tells him, shrugging. He raises an eyebrow.

“What did you just call me?”

Her laugh burbles out automatically, and his eyes do that sparkly thing they always do when he makes her laugh.

“Come on.” He holds out his arm for her, and she takes it. “The beluga show starts in five minutes.” He leads her through the winding pathway that separates the massive tanks housing the whales and dolphins. Kirsten still isn’t sure how he managed to talk her into coming to the aquarium, especially after Camille made her watch Blackfish, but here they are. Cameron had explained, in painful detail, that the local aquarium wasn’t SeaWorld, and was actually a rehab-only facility which never caught or bred animals, only keeping ones who had been rescued from other parks. Apparently he had done a brief stint on the research team studying the differences between Orca and human brain waves back in MIT. Of course once he heard that she’d never been to the aquarium he insisted on taking her.

Cameron manages to find them a seat that isn’t wet, and Kirsten realizes he’s already finished half the bag of cotton candy.

“You need to slow down.” She warns him. “You’re going to make yourself sick.”

He rolls his eyes.

“I’m a grown man, okay, and a _neuroscientist_. I think I can figure out how much cotton candy is too much.”

“Any cotton candy is too much.” She retorts, eyeing the pink fluff suspiciously. “And why did you eat all the blue first? Too manly for pink?”

He perks up in a way she’s come to recognize as his well-let-me-tell-you-all-about-this-thing face. She’s in for a lecture, it appears, on how he eats his cotton candy.

“Well, like every _sane_ human who’s eaten cotton candy, I sometimes end up with a blue tongue. But if you eat the blue first and save the pink for last, your tongue ends up looking more or less normal.” He looks so proud of himself that Kirsten bursts out laughing. This time he doesn’t look particularly pleased. She can’t help it, holding her sides as it shakes her. It’s just so Cameron, something small and unimportant and yet it manages to take hold, one more thing that she doesn’t understand but would never change.

“I love you.” She says. It just comes out, as natural as breathing, and she’s about to say she’s sorry, she didn’t mean it like that, but the way he’s looking at her makes her freeze. Ever since he woke up that day in the lab, Kirsten has been getting flashes of time, like pockets where she can feel it passing in a way she never could before. Now, with him staring at her, mouth open, purple tongue peeking out, time stops. He isn’t moving, seemingly startled to the point of silence, which she absently notes is quite a feat for him. She reflexively wants to say she doesn’t mean it. But she does, she realizes.

And then it’s there, in the decidedly non-linear archives of what she knows. She loves him. There’s no going back, it’s instantaneous and infinite.

Cameron seems to come out of it, inhaling and blinking like he’s waking up from a strange dream.

“Kir-” He doesn’t even get a chance to say her name. She jerks him forward with a fistful of his shirt, and crashes her lip against his. It’s as though she’s been waiting forever to do that, the feeling of his lips on hers simultaneously a shock of electricity and a sigh of relief. _Finally_. He tastes like cotton candy, and on him it’s perfect, in fact he might be the best thing she’s ever tasted. Her teeth pull at his bottom lip, and he makes a noise that only encourages that. Apparently the miniscule gap between them is still too much for him, and he tugs on the front of her jean jacket, pulling her closer.

Somewhere behind them, the distinctive sound of a disapproving mother clearing her throat rings out. They break apart, like teenagers caught at lookout point, gasping and completely wrapped up in each other. It was a minute, maybe less, Kirsten is surprised that she can tell. Her eyes are on Cameron, and she couldn’t tear them away if she tried. His hair is messy, she doesn’t remember doing that, but she realizes she can recall exactly how his hair feels between her fingers. His eyes are huge, and dark in a way that sparks a lust so hungry she almost doesn’t recognize it. He looks a little dumbfounded, but his hand is still gripping her thigh, hard enough that his knuckles are turning white.

“Cam-” Her voice is a little unsteady, and she has to clear her throat. “Cameron, are you okay?” She’s only asking because it seems like he should have said something by now. Did she read this wrong? Just because he wants her, and she can tell he does, it doesn’t mean he feels the same way that she does. It doesn’t mean he loves her. Her heart clenches painfully, there are days where her newfound emotions are overwhelming in their intensity. One way or another, she imagines this will be one of them.

“I’m fine.” Cameron finally says, voice at least two octaves higher than normal. Kirsten takes that as a bad sign. She decides to do what the old Kirsten would have done. She pretends it doesn’t matter.

“You’re missing the belugas.” She says, turning to point at the pool where the trainer has already begun feeding one of the white whales. She feels now, feels all of it. Hope, love, lust. That crushing, breathless feeling of heartbreak. But it’s not his fault. So she locks her eyes onto one of the whales, and doesn’t let herself look back at him. His hand is still on her thigh.

“Kirsten.”

She doesn’t look at him, afraid she’ll break if she does. Most people have years to learn how to navigate their emotions, how to temper their reactions. She’s had a few weeks, and she’s still not very good at it.

“ _Kirsten_.” This time her name is accompanied by a squeeze from the hand on her thigh. She sighs, but turns back around to look at Cameron.

“What?” Her tone is neutral, one that used to be automatic but she now has to fight to keep steady.

“What do you mean what?” He splutters. “What just happened? What was that?”

“I got caught up.” Kirsten lies. “Sometimes it’s still confusing to feel….anything. It was just affection.” She forces a smile. “I’m sorry. Let’s just forget it, girlfriend.”

Something like doubt flashes in his eyes.

“So you didn’t mean it.” It’s a statement, but it’s a question. Her hands ball into fists.

“Not like that.” She doesn’t like lying to him. After realizing how she really feels, she can’t unknow that. There’s no grey area.

“Right.” If he looks hurt, she’s probably just imagining that. They both face forward, pretending to watch the show in front of them. He takes his hand off her leg, and the blood rushes painfully in.

The show is almost over when he breaks their awkward silence.

“Okay, except I do love you.” He suddenly says, spinning to look at her. She blinks in surprise. “Exactly like that.” It almost seems like he’s admitted this by accident.

Time stops again. Then-

This kiss isn’t like the first one. It’s desperate, like she doesn’t quite believe him, teeth scraping together, her fingernails digging into the back of his neck. He’s addicting, and that’s new for her, the way her lungs are burning but she doesn’t want to pull away. A familiar cough interrupts them, that same woman from before. Kirsten, upon pulling away, finds herself standing. Without even really thinking about it, she holds out her hand to Cameron.

“Do you want to-”

He leaps to his feet, slipping his hand into hers.

“Oh Stretch,” He mutters, as they both break into a half run in the direction of the parking lot. “You have _no_ idea.”

Kirsten develops a sweet tooth after that. Camille never does figure out why there’s suddenly always a container of cotton candy ice cream in the freezer. Or why someone keeps eating the all of the blue bits first.

 

 


End file.
